


Kind of Like a Root Canal

by crushing83



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Bad date, Claire likes things just so, F/M, First Dates, Owen's shorts aren't even mentioned because he doesn't realise they're a problem, Please Don't Hate Me, a ficlet that turned into something a bit longer, but that's how I pictured it happening, maybe bad man-thought writing, no chemistry, no mention of work so no mention of raptors, which I protested but the muse had other ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crushing83/pseuds/crushing83
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on that date mentioned in the movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kind of Like a Root Canal

**Author's Note:**

> For martoni, who asked for Owen's and Claire's first date [on my multifandom ficlets post](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3457838). I was going to post this as a chapter in the ficlets, but it turned out a bit longer than I thought it would. Thanks for the prompt and I hope this doesn't disappoint! 

_You come in and flirt a little with the receptionist._

"So, I'm looking forward to tonight," he says into his phone as he drives a staff jeep back to his home away from home. 

Her laugh is soft, less guarded than the last time he heard it, and he smiles. "Yeah?" she replied. "Well, me, too. I'm looking forward to a night where quarterly earnings and attendance records aren't topics of conversation." 

"Damn." 

"What?" 

Owen grinned. "I'll have to throw out all my top-shelf material now." 

Claire laughed again. "Fun is all that's on the schedule for tonight." 

"Good. I'll meet you at the hotel. Seven-thirty, right?" 

"Yep." 

"Great. See you then, Claire." 

_And then you sit in the big chair._

Owen looked at her from across the lobby and grinned.

Claire looked back at him---twice---and pressed her lips together before smiling. 

That had not been the reaction he'd been expecting, given their earlier flirtations. 

"Claire," he murmured as he stopped in front of her. "You look... wow." 

She did look 'wow.' She was wearing a lilac skirt, flowing and clingy in all the right ways, and a white top, with some sort of shimmering scarf-wrap-thing around her shoulders. (And a pair of strappy sandals he thought would really hurt if they were digging in his ass---but in a good way.)

"Owen, hi," she said. She smiled more genuinely. "Thank you. You look... tropical." 

He grinned. "That was the look I was going for." 

"Oh. Well, then... success." 

After a little chuckle, he decided to suggest what he'd hoped she be up for doing that night. "So, I was thinking," he said as he guided her towards the exit, "we could go to Yoshinoya for dinner and then to Sunrio. They've got great tequila---have you tried it?" 

"I made reservations for Nobu," she told him. 

He slowed and looked at her. "Yeah? Haven't tried it yet."

"It's the best restaurant on the island," she told him. 

"Wanna try the tequila after?" 

With a little flourish, she produced her phone. Owen wasn't sure why she was handing him the device until his eyes focused on the screen. 

> 7:45 Dinner at Nobu  
>  9:15 Frozen Yogurt at B&J*  
>  10:00 Monorail trip  
>  11:30 Home
> 
> *Alternate: Coffee at Starbucks

He hummed once, briefly. He hadn't expected an itinerary. Then, he looked at her and said: "So, Margaritaville is out of the question, then?" 

_And then there's a little pain._

Nobu did not have many cooked options. That fact surprised him. He'd been stationed in Japan once, he knew they didn't eat only raw food; he also knew that just because he preferred his food cooked (thoroughly), there wasn't something wrong with him. It was a texture thing, he told anyone when the subject came up in conversation; he could not get past the way seaweed and raw fish felt in his mouth. 

But, his parents raised a (fairly) decent man, as much as the Navy tried to fix that, so he put on a smile, ate what he could, and tried not to wince every time he watched Claire eat something slimier than he could stand. 

"Are you sure you don't want to try this?" she asked. Between her chopsticks was a piece of something pink on a small block of rice. "It's delicious. You're missing out." 

He took another sip of his saki and shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm enjoying watching you enjoy it," he said with a little grin. 

The blush that appeared on her cheeks gave him hope that the night could be salvaged. 

 _And then you're numb and sore and groggy and you just want to go home._  

Conversation had dried up about halfway through the monorail journey. Claire was looking out the window; Owen was looking anywhere but at Claire. He hadn't remembered dating as something so difficult. It had been a while since he tried, but it couldn't be that hard to hop back in the saddle, he was sure. 

They arrived back at the station before eleven-thirty. Owen walked her down the path, toward the main thoroughfare, and wracked his brain for some way to save the night, to turn it around. 

"Want to try that tequila?" 

She smiled, but she also shook her head. "It's not on my diet," she told him with a little shrug. 

"Diet? Wait... really?" 

"Yes, really. I think I'm going to call it a night, Owen."

He knew his smile was fake, too much of a lie to even be considered polite, but he nodded and insisted he walk her to the hotel lobby again. 

After watching her walk to the bay of elevators, he sighed and let his facade fall. She'd had him more unbalanced than any woman ever had---but not in a good way. From the itinerary to the mention of a diet, he'd been confused; he'd read her all wrong. Usually, he could get a read on a person, and he'd guessed she'd be fun away from the office, less fuss and more muss once she was out from behind her desk. He couldn't have been more wrong. 

She was all fuss. 

He gave his head a little shake and headed outside. He looked at Sunrio and frowned. Barry had given him a bottle of their tequila for his birthday last year and if he wasn't mistaken there was still half of it left. He could drink and bemoan how wrong the night had been in the privacy of his own home.


End file.
